


Silver and Green

by FanGirlMiv



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Angst, Drabble, Dragoon-babies, F/M, HighSpecs, Original Character(s), Scandinavian AU, Sex, Slice of Life, Smut, World of Ruin, after the dawn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2018-10-24 14:41:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanGirlMiv/pseuds/FanGirlMiv
Summary: My very uncreatively named collection of IgnisxAranea-drabbles. Some are from tumblr. The rating will vary, but will go from generic to pretty explicit. Individual ratings will be noted at the beginning of each chapter. The drabbles are not connected as such, and can be pre and post the Fall. Tags will be added if needed. Now also with boring real-life AU :D Updated with a few more drabbles.





	1. Return of the King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E.  
> World of Ruin.

Before she has a clue what was going on, she found herself hoisted into the air and pressed against the wall. Something was digging into her back, but Aranea hardly noticed because all she could focus on was the desperate look on Ignis’ face and the forceful way he was tugging at her clothes. Thank the Astrals she had chosen to wear a skirt for once, because otherwise she was pretty sure he would have made short work of any obstacles with his daggers.

“What’s gotten into you?” she wheezed out, as Ignis pulled down her panties and thrust up against her with a needy groan. She wrapped her legs around his waist out of sheer habit, and she could feel him hard and straining against the fabric of his pants. Instead of any coherent reply, he simple captured her lips and kissed her roughly, like he wanted to devour her, tongue and teeth and shared breath.

And it was all the reply she needed. Something had happened, something that had managed to drive her normally composed lover over the edge. He was heaving against her like a stormy sea, all tumultuous feelings, and conflicting needs.

It could only mean one thing.

“He’s back.” Ignis pulled back and looked straight at her, even if it should not be possible. He had been near blind for 10 years, and somehow, he still managed to express more with his one open, glazed-over eye than all the words in this ruined world could.

Aranea felt herself tremble in his embrace. Noctis was back. She had never thought much of it. Living day to day, never disagreeing what Ignis’ complete conviction that his friend would be back some day (and holding him when that complete conviction wavered because even Ignis was only human) and doing what she did best – fighting and never giving up.

But now time was up. The King was back and battle was nigh.

“I get it,” she whispered, and she did. All of it. Even that Ignis might die.

“I love you,” Ignis whispered back. It sounded like he might be choking a bit, and Aranea captured his lips in a soft kiss. _I love you too, you brilliant, uptight, hopelessly dedicated doofus._

Ignis let her down only long enough to practically tear open his pants and he had her up against the wall again, and thrust into her hard, sheathing himself to the balls in one forceful move that reminded her how fucking strong he actually was underneath his restrained front.

It was rough and loud and selfish, so unlike his usual lovemaking and Aranea loved it, was thrilled by it. Ignis was tightly controlled fire, and it’s so rare that he allowed the fire to burn free, to let himself go. They had even fought over it, Aranea claiming that he’s gonna pop a vein if he doesn't let out some steam, and Ignis standing his ground that he is not reckless, he leaves that to her, and what’s that supposed to mean and it ended up with 2 days of not speaking to each other and a make-up fuck that certainly did let out some steam.

It’s nothing to this, a whisper to a storm.

Ignis fucked her like his life depended on it, like each thrust was a stab at a looming enemy, and all she could do was to hang on for dear life, her shirt riding up and the skin on her back chafing on the wall paper. It didn't take long for him to come, his whole body tensed and he plunged into her one last time and shuddered, his hips pumping erratically and his lungs going like bellows as he rested his forehead on the wall next to her. Aranea waited for him to regain his breath before she slowly unlocked her legs and glided down. She knelt between his legs, taking his half-hard cock in her mouth and licked him clean of their mixed juices, slowly, lovingly. Then she could feel his fingers on her head, caressing her scalp and tugging on her ponytail. She pulled his pants back up and made him half-descent before standing up, pushing into the circle of his arms as he rested his hands on the wall, still breathing hard.

“You didn't come,” he said shakily, and Aranea rolled her eyes.

“You forget about that shit right now,” she warned. Bloody hell, this man drives her crazy.

“This is about you.” She hugged him, letting him lean his weight on her, and whispered into his ear:

“Tell me everything.”

And he did.

And when the light returned, she was waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like Ignis falling apart. Good thing that Aranea is made of glue.


	2. Pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G.  
> World of Ruin.

Rationally, she knew it was her own damn fault, but as she counted backwards from 1000, grinding her teeth, Aranea couldn’t help but wish Ignis was a little less eager to prove that he could hold his own. Yes, it was a mistake and she should have known better, but she still couldn’t help but blame him for being in such a hurry to get the monster out of the way. Yes, the situation had been getting out of hand, downright dire and threatening to pollute the surrounding area, but seriously, he could have waited 5 min. for her to asses the situation and give it a good to go.

Just 5 min… Taking a deep breath, getting her temper back under control, Aranea pulled what used to be her favorite, white bra out of the washing machine. It was now a bright pink, courtesy of the one pair of red panties that had snuck into the whites.

Ignis was never allowed to put on a wash unsupervised again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some horrors cannot be slain.


	3. Lux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G.  
> World of Ruin.  
> Kinda canon with my oneshot "Warping what??".

Ignis never saw his daughter. But it didn't matter. When Aranea put her in his arms, warm and soft and smelling like nothing he had experienced before, like vanilla and sour-sweetness and a hint of blood, unique and new and wonderful, he didn't need his eyes to see her. 

He ran feather-light fingers over her tiny features, committing them to memory, and his heart swelled with love when he felt her mouth work on the tip of his finger, instinctively seeking nourishment. He lifted her up, pressed a kiss to her forehead and carefully gave her back to Aranea. 

They had never really discussed names though they had known that they were expecting a daughter - Ignis had insisted on all the tests that were possible after a semblance of sanity had returned to the world. Names had not seemed important as long as she had been healthy and was growing and kicking up a storm that kept both of them up at night – Aranea because she was the one being kicked, and Ignis because Aranea was quite verbal in expressing how displeased she was. And now she was here, a brightness in their life.

“Lux,” he said suddenly, “let’s name her Lux.” 

He could hear Aranea lift her head and look at him. 

“Lux,” she repeated slowly, turning the word over, and then his arm was being squeezed reassuringly. 

“I like that. Lux it is.” 

“Lux Scientia Highwind, welcome to the world, our little light in the darkness,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had to get it out. I don't think I have ever written anything this fluffy-grown-up. Srry for any inconsistencies and biological impossibilities.


	4. Lunch-time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G.  
> Scandinavian AU.
> 
> Okay, so I have this crazy idea of an AU-setting where Aranea and Ignis (and the Bros) live in Scandinavia. It was all inspired by the idea of Aranea on a bike (we bike a lot up here). So far, there's no plot and no real established canons.

Even at 4 years old, Gertrud knew that her daddy was not like the other daddies. It wasn’t that he was _blind_ , that just meant that Gertie would sometimes have two different color socks on, or that they forgot some of her stuff in kindergarten, and that was fun. No, it was because none of the other daddies would sneak around in the kindergarten kitchen and ask Lisa, the lady that made lunch for them, about ve-ge-tables and protins and other stuff. Every day. Until Lisa got so angry that she threw daddy out of the kitchen, and mommy had to take Gertie to kindergarten for two weeks, and then she had a grown-up talk with daddy and made him bring his special cake and a piece of paper that was the _recipe_ for the cake and give it to Lisa. And that was what made her daddy special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, maybe in this AU Ignis is English since the daughter is called Gertie.


	5. Snowdrops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G.  
> After the Dawn.  
> Fluff and flowers and a precocious little girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble belongs in the same AU as my one-shot "Muse".

The first spring after the Dawn was an explosion of vibrant colors and succulent greenery across the plains and hills of the lands that had been suffocated in darkness for 10 years. It was if nature had declared war on the memories of evil, and all over Eos, the survivors rejoiced in the return of a life that had seemed as fragile as a candle in a storm.

Aranea was not a sentimental woman, but when her daughter brought her a bouquet of slightly mangled snowdrops, she felt her eyes sting as she knelt down and took the delicate, green and white flowers that Lux offered to her.

"They are beautiful, stormy," she said, blinking rapidly.

"They were growing down by the parking lot, mom," Lux said, pointing out the door.

"I guess the greenhouses are kinda useless now," she added.

Like all children born just before or during the Darkness, Lux had until now only seen flowers in the artificial lights of greenhouses and heavily guarded fields were the meager crops and herbs sustaining the population had been grown.

"I guess so. You know, let's go show them to dad," Aranea said, giving the flowers back to her daughter.

"He's actually working," Lux stated, with that precocious mien that had Aranea roll her eyes. Lux might have inherited the silver hair and fair skin of the Highwinds, but her eyes and her stuffing was all Ignis.

"I don’t think he will mind being disturbed for this," Aranea said, taking her daughter's hand.

Ignis was in the study, dictating a report about the time schedules for the rebuilding of the bridge leading to Insomnia, a subject so boring Aranea yawned just thinking about it. When they entered, he turned in his chair.

"Something the matter?" His voice was a bit strained – his workload had been piling up since the light had returned because when it came to planning and organizing, Ignis was a freaking phenomenon – and Lux gave Aranea a _look_. Aranea gave her a _look_ right back and motioned with her hand.

"Sorry, dad. Mom thought you would like to see the flowers I found."

"Flowers?" Ignis said, slowly, like he didn’t quite believe what he heard.

"Yeah, they are kinda pretty, white and green and looks like they have ears." Lux walked up to Ignis and held the flowers out for him to touch. Delicately, he ran his fingers over the flowers, and then took one, lifting it up to his face. His hand was trembling slightly, and Aranea felt her eyes beginning to sting again.

"It's snowdrops," she said quietly.

"What's "snow"? Lux asked. Ignis inhaled deeply, for a moment lost in the fragrance of the tiny flower, and then turned to face his daughter.

"It's like rain, except it's frozen," he explained. "It's quite beautiful, just like you."

Lux cocked her head, green eyes narrow. She was thinking, _analysing_ , and Aranea was suddenly fiercely proud of their smart, too-old-for-her-age, brave and tempestuous child.

"There's snow in the mountains, we can go see it if you want to, stormy," she said.

"I think I would like to. Can Prompto and Gladio come as well?"

"We can ask them, honey," Ignis said. "But right now, I would like if you showed me the place you picked the flowers."

He held out a hand to each of them, and together, they walked out into the sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Lux in this story is not the same as the girl born in the chapter "Lux". However, they are more or less the same person, just in two different AUs. And she has curls. If I dare, I might draw her one day... I also need to write something that does not involve highspecs babies.


	6. Trepidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T.
> 
> The games they play.

“Do you trust me?”

It is with some trepidation he awaits her answer, the half a heartbeat before she nods her assent is laced with trepidation. There might come a day where she will not consent, rise above him and say she’s done with him. He is man enough to admit that it turns him on, the sliver of insecurity one of the myriad facets that makes up the undefinable tangle that is their relationship. It defines them, so much more than the onyx-studded platinum band dangling between her breasts on a delicate silver chain.

“Always,” she replies, and he lets out the breath he has been holding in. Bending down, he delicately takes hold of her chin and tilts her head up.

“I hope I am worthy of your trust,” he whispers and presses a light kiss to her forehead. Then he carefully places the ball gag in her mouth and tightens the straps, making sure that her silvery hair is not caught in the buckle. 

“My dear, I have plans for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I have to explore their kinks in more depth.


	7. Wool over your eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  
> Angst!   
> World of Ruin.
> 
> The Light came back but he did not.

As she looked down upon the mangled corpse of the man that she had loved, blind eyes now truly unseeing, she felt a strange sense of displacement, like her soul had fled her body, tethered only by a fragile filament that could blow away in the slightest breeze. Scatter her to the four corners of the world like so much dust, and some part of her wanted to follow him, into whatever place the dead went, and that would not do. The evil was vanquished, hope was reborn, and the world needed her. She was not a fool, not one to pull the wool over her eyes.

“You fool, you absolute fool,” she whispered, her voice shuddering like a dying heart, and suddenly it all came rushing up, a churning flood of memories and emotions so strong she hardly registered as her armored knees crashed to the ground next to his still form.

“Fuck you and your King, your duty, your loyalty,” she choked out, cursing existence in general. The only man she had allowed into her heart, the only one that had seen her truly exposed. Nakedness of the body was nothing. She had bared her soul to him, and he had repaid her trust a thousand-fold.

“How will I go on without you?” she moaned, her grief driving her to the ground, and she folded in on herself.

She allowed herself to cry, and it felt like emptying her body of blood, of life, of dreams, as the sun rose for the first time in 10 years.

But for her, there would be no joy in the return of the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a sad sack of angst.


	8. Hook, Line and Sinker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G
> 
> Introspective Ignis.

Aranea is a master of the lance, her moves so sublime that they have become instinct, as integral to her being as drawing in a breath or running a hand through her silvery hair.

Ignis cannot help but be jealous of her mastery; he knows that he is himself an excellent fighter, able to hold his own against the great of the world, and he is not above arrogance nor gloating. But if he judges his peers, he judges himself a hundredfold harder. Ignis is introspective to the point where he can literally tire himself out with self-analysis and worry the slightest bit of data well past the point of ridiculousness. He never lets it on, staying calm and collected on the outside even if his insides is a whirlpool of emotional upheaval.

For some unfathomable reason Aranea of all persons is able to see straight through him, and absolutely shamelessly cut him open and lay all of his innermost secrets and concerns bare. Absolutely shamelessly, and he was addicted from the very beginning. She had him, hook, line and sinker, and for the most part, he enjoyed being reeled in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will never tire of putting their dynamics under the microscope.


	9. Four in a row

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G.  
> AU.
> 
> Somewhere in AU-land, a Dragoon walks into a bar. And a Royal Advisor runs out. My contribution to Highspecs-week on tumblr. HighSpecs week day 6: Confessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like writing from Gladio's pow. Probably because he's my spirit animal.

Ignis was not the most outgoing of persons when he was sober, and drinking only seemed to worsen this trait. He would tense up, becoming almost brooding, and speaking only sparsely, if at all. Once, when Gladio twisted his arm out of sheer boredom, he admitted that it was a natural reflex. He didn’t like “the potential of causing a scene” as he put it. Gladiolus, who couldn’t imagine anything better than Ignis causing a scene, had made it his life’s goal to soak his friend in so much booze that this very thing would happen.

So far, he had not gotten any satisfying results. Ignis, it turned out, had a fairly high tolerance for alcohol, and furthermore, the man was scary smart and perceptive. None of the usual tricks for getting people sloshed worked on him. His effing chef’s tongue could apparently detect one grain of salt too much in a dish, so spiking his drink was out of the question. Coercion, short of sitting on him and pouring the drink down his gullet, was also next to impossible.

Gladiolus had in all seriousness considered the violent solution, but Ignis was not a weakling, and while the Shield had nothing against a good lil’ bar brawl, his comrades did not have the same appreciation for that kind of exercise. Something about drawing unwanted attention, an aversion to getting the royal skin bruised and “aaah, my camera”.

He had even “accidentally” spilling a drink on Ignis. The Advisor was so dry and starved for fun that Gladio reasoned he would suck up some of the drink by osmosis. A frown and an outrageous bill from the dry cleaners had been the only outcome of that little stunt.

Therefore, he raised both eyebrows and stared hard when Ignis chugged down one of the shots of tequila Gladio had placed enticingly in front of him, and fairly jumped off his stool and disappeared in the direction of the gents.

What the hell?

“Hey big guy, how are you?” a slightly husky voice sounded behind him. Gladio smirked. Of course.

“Hey yourself, good, just came back from a hunt. How’s the search going?”

“Not bad, things are progressing,” the owner of the voice said, taking a seat on Gladio’s right.

“Buy a girl a drink?”

“A girl doesn’t have any money?”

Aranea Highwind laughed, pushing back a stray lock of silver hair, and leaned in over the bar, chin in hand.

“Nope, a girl does not. Spend my last gil on this baby.” She pulled a knife from her belt and placed in on the bar. Gladio let out a low whistle.

“Damn, that’s no counterfeit.” He eyed the Dragoon. “Or is it?”

“It’s the real deal, alright. Look at the etching on the hilt, its genuine Solheim make.”

Gladio lifted up the weapon, noticing how heavy it was, compared to a contemporary knife of similar size. The craftsmanship was truly superb, though.

“Where did you get it?”

“You know, my mouth is awful dry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rolling his eyes, Gladiolus raised his head to look for the bartender, and that’s when he caught sight of Ignis, lurking at the end of the bar.

He signaled his friend, who just shook his head. _Idiot, get over here,_ Gladiolus mouthed, and Ignis shook his head even more fiercely, and mimicked putting on a jacket and pointed to where he had been sitting.

 _No, you don’t!_ Gladio stabbed his finger into the bar repeatedly. Aranea looked startled and then turned to follow his gaze. Ignis’ eyes went comically big and he scrambled backwards, nearly pushing over a server with a tray full of empty glasses.

“Hey, watch it!” the girl yelled, trying in vain to steady her tray.

Ignis mumbled something, spun around and fled from the room accompanied by the sound of breaking glass.

“Was that – Four-Eyes??” Aranea said slowly with an incredulous expression.

“Not sure, why don’t you go and check if it was Ardyn in disguise?” Gladio snickered.

“Wasn’t last night,” the Dragoon said slowly.

Gladiolus burst out laughing. “Again? What the fuck you did to him? Never seen him that panicked.” Ignis’ ability to slip away unnoticed would forever baffle him.

Aranea sighed and put the knife back in the sheath at her belt.

“You know, sometimes I regret hopping into bed with your dear Advisor.”

“Cold feet?” Gladio said, careful to keep his voice neutral. He didn’t want to stick his nose where it didn’t belong, or – gods forbid – get dragged into some kinda romantic drama, but Ignis was his friend.

“Oh, smooth your hackles. I’m not here to bitch talk.” She reached over and grabbed Gladio’s beer and took a healthy swig, paused, and then downed the rest of the bottle.

“So bad?”

“Worse.” Aranea rubbed her eyes, and then let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, you’ll probably find out anyway. So, last night, right before he leaves, we’re joking around, just some bullshit about how my piercing always gets lost and why he can’t just put it somewhere easy to find – you know how distracted he can be – and that’s when he says it. Fucking out of no-where. No warning, no fucking warning for this girl.”

Gladio was struggling to pay attention. Ignis – distracted, losing stuff?? No, he astraldammit didn’t know! The Ignis he knew, sometimes shared a tent or room with, fucking slept next to, was never distracted. He ironed his socks and had catalogued all of their potions! Ignis did not get distracted, period. Had to be Ardyn.

“What warning?” he improvised, trying to get back in the conversation.

“Warning about throwing a meteor like that! He told me he loves me! Right there, only wearing his fucking socks. You don’t tell someone you love them only wearing socks!”

Aranea’s voice had taken on a bit of shrill edge, and there’s white all around her dark green irises.

“Holy crap,” was all the reply Gladiolus could manage. No doubt she was telling the truth. The Dragoon was not a drama queen, and Ignis did put on his socks first, instead of his underwear, like any normal person. This went beyond romantic drama. This was – sensational.

Silently, he moved the four remaining shots from Ignis’ vacated spot and pushed them in front of the Dragoon.

“Do you –“

Aranea downed all four shots in a row, and that kinda said it all.

It seemed Ignis did not have to be drunk to cause a scene.


	10. Fascist bureaucracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G.  
> Scandinavian AU (?).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfinished and random. A drabble of drabbles. I like the concept of Ignis and Aranea as completely normal, but still remarkable, human beings in a completely mundane world. I suppose it's a grown-up fantasy...

“You are. Number 21. In line,” the digital voice informed Aranea. With an exasperated sigh, she stared at her smart phone and the seconds ticking away the length of the call and subsequently being retracted from her life.

“I’m not getting any younger!” she yelled at the phone, resisting the urge to throw it out the window. To mock her further, the phone’s only reply was to come down with a terrible case of muzak.

“Aranea, what is the matter?”

Despite her mood, Aranea felt a shiver run down her spine and spread like a delightful tickling between her legs.

“Mmm, you should change your line of work, start reading erotic novels, you’d get filthy rich.”

“Tempting as it sounds, I like my choice of carrier,” he deadpanned.

“I’m good at it,” he added, and Aranea had to agree. Ignis was one of the best event coordinators in town, always in demand and paid accordingly. He did not have a flashy lifestyle, but Aranea had a sharp eye for brands and quality, and even if she didn’t, she would at least have recognized the smell of real leather and her ass certainly appreciated the quality of the 4-layer toilet paper that she swore must be made from unicorn skin. She wouldn’t even guess where to buy stuff like that, but it didn’t matter as long as Ignis could magic it up and into her life.

“The fascist bureaucracy of this stupid country is the fucking problem,” she grumbled, giving her phone a menacing look. 2 min. 08 sec. of her life had already ticked away.

As opposed to Ignis, Aranea was currently job-less and a slave to the system. Being the spitfire she was, she had never had any trouble finding employment, but after meeting Ignis, she had been forced to sit back on her heels and take a good, hard look at her life. She didn’t have any fancy education and was not really bookish, though she was fiercely smart. Having always been good at sports, she had made her living as a fitness instructor and the odd jobs on the side, but she was not 20 anymore. So, when the fitness center were she worked had been closed down, she had taken the opportunity to for once cash in on her benefits and do some thinking. Unfortunately, the system still had to be placated.


End file.
